Pioggia di Fuoco: The First of a Trilogy
by DreamingInColor67
Summary: An unlikely clue leads an even more unlikely group of five on their journey in their quest to defeat Voldemort. Love, Betrayal, Pain and Lust. Fine lines are crossed, forbbiden doors opened, and boundries broken. The first in a trilogy.
1. Can't Do it Alone

Harry's mind was made up. He was going to save the world that was falling down around his ears.

Messy black hair was tossed back and forth accross his scarred forehead in the light summer breeze. Calloused hands--the results of years of quidditch--rested gently on the veined white marble of Albus Dumbledore's tomb. _I caused this_, he thought. _If I had been stronger--expected--. _For what seemed the millionth time, Harry's thoughts strayed to the attack. He mulled over the fact that someone else either had the locket, or had destroyed it. He mourned the fact that his mentor was dead. But he was also curious about one thing; one person. Draco Malfoy.

What _exactly_ was the story with Malfoy? Harry didn't get it. He had pegged Malfoy as an odious boy with a penchant for violence that bordered on sickening. But now he began to wonder. Who was Draco Malfoy, really? He wasn't sure of anything, now. Doubt lingered in the shadows around every corner, clinging to the deep recesses of his mind that he would normally rather leave untouched; unthought of. But now, now he didn't have the luxury of _not thinking about it_. That was what got him in trouble last time.

_Everything is different now,_ brown skin clenched the marble with enough force to bleach his knuckles white, _I don't know anything anymore except for what I have to do. But I don't know how to do it! This. Is. So. Stupid--_

His rapid thoughts were cut off by the light crunching of gravel beneath the feet of someone behind him.

Harry nimbly spun around to face Hermione Granger, who looked frazzled and tired, concern overlapping the overwhelming fatigue that seemed to be affecting everybody the last day or so. Caramel hued curly hair framed her face, pink with exertion. Blue-black bruises sulked under her warm brown eyes that had turned from lively and happy to dull and dejected. She carried herself without her usual stature of confidence; seeming to have shrunk from the great weight that was now being carried on her shoulders.

She reached him a moment later, and rested a hand gently on his shoulder. "Are you okay, Harry? We were all looking for you, we needed to talk to you about something--" She cut off her ramble at the look on his face, "I'm sorry, do you want me to leave? I'll leave if you want me to. I didn't even think, I'm sorry, I really shouldn't have--". She took a tenative step backwards, as if to leave. Different emotions played behind her expressive eyes - remorse, guilt, worry- and Harry felt all the worse for it.

"Herm, its okay." His chest heaved a sigh. "I just needed to get away for a few minutes." He cast a small but reassuring smile her way and held his hand out in a comforting gesture, which she took without hesitation and they trudged back to the castle together to speak with the newly instated Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

By the time Harry and Hermione had reached her office, Ron and Ginny were already seated in two stiff armchairs that seemed to be characteristic of McGonagall. The office had changed little since she had taken up residence in place of Dumbledore.An ancient telescope still sat by the window, waiting to be gazed through. Fawkes sat on her perch and hung her head mournfully, no longer emitting any noise; quieted by her master's death. Harry supposed she didn't have the heart to change the office more than she had to, he knew that if he were in her shoes, he would not have been able to either. She waved her wand and two more chairs appeared, making a gesture to sit. They sat.

The silence draped a heavy blanket of tension over them and all at once they suddenly began spouting off explanations without much regard for anybody else. She raised her hand again and they all quieted. The Headmistress looked pointedly at Harry. "Speak, Potter."

"Well, I've been thinking about this," He said at length, "and I'm going to fix what I messed up. I'm going to do what I have to do. And I'm going to do it alone." At this he turned to his friends; his eyes begging noiselessly for forgiveness. He was met with cold stares all around.

"If you think your going alone, your insane." It was Ginny who had spoken up, and she looked positivley livid. Harry's rejection still stung, but she was over it. She had more important things to think about, really. Now wasn't the time.

"Gin--you know better than anybody else--" Harry began.

"First of all, _don't_ call me Gin. And what I know better than anybody else is that **you can't do this alone.** In your first year, you needed Ron and Hermione to help you get to the Sorcerers Stone. You're second year, I couldn't face Tom on my own, you saved me. Third year, Ron and Hermione faced down Sirius with you. Fourth year, Cedric saved your butt in the second task. In fifth year, you needed us at the Ministry, you know it, too. And this year, Dumbledore needed you to get the--whatever you needed to get. Even **Dumbledore** needed help! You can't do this yourself. Going by yourself would be suicide. You need to get that notion through that stubborn hero-complex thick head of yours, and you need to do it now." Ginny finished her speech with a flourish, her face first turning a brilliant red, and then quieting down to a rosy pink.

He didn't reply to that, because he knew the truth of her words, though he wanted to deny them until he believed his own. _I _know_ I need them. I just don't want them to get hurt._ He held his head in his hands for a moment, and sat up slowly, removed his glasses, and rubbed his emerald eyes slowly. "I know, Ginny". He was careful to not call her by her nickname, and it ached that he had hurt her; betrayed her that much. "I--I just couldn't stand the thought of any of you getting hurt. I don't know what I would do, to be honest". A shaky laugh escaped his mouth, and he quieted, waiting for someone else to speak and fill the void that their lack of communication left behind.

"I suppose it's settled, then. Return to your dorms, and I will be along in short order to help you prepare for tomorrow. You leave at dawn." And with that being the only detail revealed to the four, they heard the dismissal in her voice and got up to leave. Ron strode out first, Ginny hurrying after him, obviously not willing to acknowledge Harry any more than necessary, and thus this left Harry and Hermione to walk back together, again.

Draco woke with a start to a dark room, laying between scratchy sheets. He was soaked in sweat, and breathing heavily, which was uncharacteristic of him. _Damn, what the hell...Oh _shit! Suddenly the events of yesterday flooded back to him in a rush of memory. Much of it was blurred, snippets of moments, but they were enough to piece together what had transpired.

_"Where are we going, Snape?" Even to his own ears, Draco sounded like a scared little boy, not a young man going on seventeen. He was disgusted with himself. Weak, he was weak!_

_"Soon enough, Mister Malfoy." Was all the potions master murmured as they trudged further into the forbidden forest.They had been walking for perhaps two hours now, making seemingly random paths through the trees, him not knowing what they were looking for or if they could even deal with what they found._

_He found that he could not block the image of the old man flying off the edge of the tower, about how now he was probably off to be killed right now. He was scared, more than he had ever been in is life._

_"Why did you do it, Professor?" He near-whispered. He needed to know, and could not stand keeping quiet any longer, though he knew the response would probably not be a pleasant one._

_"Because I had to." He replied, simply. He went on to retell the tale of the unbreakable vow he had made with Draco's mother, and of how he really _was_ on Dumbledore's side. "We had agreed upon this already, you see. If I were faced with a situation such as that, I was not to blow my cover, he said that we could all manage without him, that he had left enough for us all to get by on. I'm taking you somewhere you will be safe, Draco, that is all you need to know." He answered Draco's previous qustion. And everything went black for Draco for awhile._

_When he next awoke, they were out of the forest and Snape was striding quickly, nearly running, through an open field, and grey skies signaled sunrise was fast approaching. Draco was gliding along next to the man, and let out a small yelp of suprise as he realized that his feet were not touching the groud._

_"Hush, Malfoy." And without warning, the blonde was dropped out of the air and onto the ground, and he managed to somewhat gracefully scramble to his feet and match the Professor's long strides. Slate eyes scanned the horizon, attempting to discern their location. It had been the dead of night when they had fled from Hogwarts, so they must have been traveling for about six hours already, he deduced, which left him with four hours of being unconscious. He had no idea where he was, and he didn't like it one bit. _

_"I've had enough waiting. I want to know where I am. I want to know where I am going. I want to know why I'm going there, and I want food. I'm hungary." His arms crossed petulantly over the now ripped remains of what had been death eater robes._

_A large sigh heaved from the tall, dark, but not very handsome man. "Of course you've had enough waiting. You are a Malfoy, are you not? You are in the middle of nowhere, at the moment. You will find out where your going when you get there, and you are going there for safety." _

_Draco threw his arms up to the sky in frustration at the Professor's cryptic answers. His white blonde hair ruffled in the light breeze, and he tried to flatten it back into its rightful place, but it did not seem to wish to cooperate with him at the time. This annoyed him to no end. 'Great, it now seems that my hair has been replaced with Saint Potter's, I'm dirty, my robes are absolutly ruined, and I'm _still_ hungry.' Draco thought to himself, thinking it wise to keep his complaints to himself._

_A low hill appeared in front of them, and Snape motioned for him to stop with a swipe of his alabastar hand. He took out his wand, and began dismanteling what appeared to be wards of some sort. The pale boy glanced around nervously, suddenly feeling extremely exposed in the open field with no cover to speak of. His hand rubbed the back of his neck in an unusual show of uncomfortability and bounced slightly on the balls of his feet. _

_He noticed that the air in front of him had begun to shimmer iridescently. It was almost unnoticeable at first, but what had started as a niggling out of the corner of his eye soon took on the appearance of a wave of air. All at once, it ended, and a good sized house stood at the top of the hill, which a moment before had stood empty._

_The house appeared almost ancienct, made out of cobblestone with ivy climbing up all sides. Though beautiful, it appeared empty; dust clouding the windows, and rust covering the door knocker. Draco could sense the magic oozing from the place, but instead of unsettling him as it probably should have, it calmed him in a way that put his mind at peace as it had been before he had even started at Hogwarts. _

_Snape strode up to the door, and opened it with a creak. He strode inside, not looking back, but Draco followed him in anyway and shut the door quietly behind him. He stood in the entryway of the mansion, which was decorated in old tapestrys that appeared to only be held together by magic, they were so old. The primary color was a rich royal blue, and the coat of arms for the house of Ravenclaw caught his eye quite often. Draco saw that Snape had strode away, lighting torches as he went. He could see the older man's footsteps in the inchs of dust that had settled onto the worn stone floor. _

_"So where exactly am I?" Draco intoned, doubting that he would get a straight answer, but he was suprised._

_"This was the house of Rowena Ravenclaw when she was alive. It had been passed down through the generations, occassionally a home, or a safe house during times of need. Eventually it fell into disuse until Dumbledore stumbled accross it. You see, the family had lost track of the house through the centuries, until it was entirely forgotten, which worked to our advantage. Ravenclaw's wards are still in place, which is good for us. This is where you will be staying."_

_"Well, then. It's better than I had thought." _

_'What an understatement. And I had thought he was taking me to Voldemort and having me slaughtered like an animal.' Relief flooded through Draco, although he was careful no to show it._

_"So, I assume that you'll be staying here with me?" He kept his tone casual and detached, keeping the fear of abandonment out of his voice. Though it was better than his assumed fate, he did not want to be alone in this old place._

_"For the time being."_

_"How long?"_

_"Until I leave."_

_"Oh."_

_And then Draco had found a bedroom he found suitable, and sunk into the mercifully cool sheets. He was alseep before he hit the pillow._

Draco allowed his head to hit the pillow and groaned. He rolled over to grab his wand on the table beside his bed.

He whispered an incantation and the tip of his wand issued a light that lit his room. He slid his body out from the sheets and pulled on his robe. He was going in search of Snape to get some more answers.


	2. Of Vampires and Slamming Doors

Ginny groaned internally. What was she doing? She was just finishing her fifth year, she wasn't ready to go to war! None of them were, not really. She glanced around at her friends' faces. Hermione, all books and brains, could she survive on the battlefield when it came down to it? Her brother Ron, how horrible it was that he of all people had to fight this battle. It wasn't right. And then there was Harry, but then, Harry had always been ready for this.

She unconsciously ran her finger over the tattered material of the bag stuffed with necessities that was sitting on her lap. Peering up and Professor McGonagall, she barely registered what she was saying, even though she knew, _knew_, that she should be listening. It was probably important. But she couldn't focus. Not now.

The plan was rather simple, really. There was a safe house that they would travel to on foot. McGonagall was to accompany them, make sure they got there alright, but then they would be on their own after that. They would be walking through the Forbidden Forest, and through the surrounding countryside until they reached their destination. It wasn't hard to understand, but that did nothing to banish the butterflies fluttering in Ginny's middle region.

She gazed out through her fiery hair and attempted to listen to what the blasted woman was saying. But Ginny had decided to tune into the lecture a moment too late. By then, the Professor had stood and straightened her robes.

"Are we all set then? Yes? Let's go." She turned on her heel and stepped out of the castle, casting disillusionment charms all the way. And with that, they were off.

XXXX

They had been trudging through the woods for an hour already, though it felt like ten. The intitial rush of having a purpose, something to _do_ had worn off about fifteen minutes into the long hike. Her feet were already aching, and the pack on her back was beginning to cause her to be sore in muscles she didn't even know she had. Hermione was getting nervous; the trees grew so thick together here that even the bright morning sun could not pierce the foliage that loomed ominously above their heads.

Everybody seemed to be deeply in thought, though Hermione could see Harry and Ron exchanging worried glances and hushed whispers, occasionally shooting a look at everybody else. _Scheming again, I see_. And she smirked internally. But the slight amusement dwindled until she was back to contemplating the words that her Professor had spoken to her earlier.

_"Miss Granger, a word." Hermione shot a questioning glance at her, and pulled Ron aside for a moment._

_"Ron, go on ahead. I'll meet up with all of you in the tower in a few minutes, I just need to speak to McGonagall for a minute, okay?"_

_Ron shot her a grin, "Ok, 'Mione" and with that they were out of the room, leaving only the older woman and the student. Hermione crossed her arms over her chest, and sat back down in one of those stiff wooden chairs. The Professor looked over at her favourite student with her mouth set in a grim line. _

_"Miss Granger, you are a smart girl." She began. Hermione didn't acknowledge the comment, and sat waiting for further annotation. "This Safe House, you see, is not simply a Safe House.It is an ancient house, whose ownership can be traced back to the Ravenclaw line. Rowena herself used to reside there, and most of the belongings in the house are still intact, which includes an immense library. The house was allowed to slip through the cracks of time, and has been abandoned for as long as anyone can remember. Grimmauld Place is no longer entirely safe, but this is a place that as far as we know has gone unnoticed under Voldemort's scrutiny. _

_"We think that information about Horcruxes, as well as other useful spells, may be located in that library. I need you to look, and in turn prepare Harry for when you intend to leave the house. I think it would be wise to remain there for a period of time before you depart to look for the Horcruxes. I'm asking you specifically, because there is one other thing. Draco Malfoy is to accompany you. He is currently waiting at the house; Professor Snape escorted him directly after the battle. I did not think it was wise to alert Harry, Ron or Ginny to this fact, as it would have caused conflict before it was needed.The Order thinks that having him on our side would be beneficial, and that he has change his priorities."_

_Hermione proceeded to look appropriately horrified. "But--Draco Malfoy? You can't possibly mean--" Her eyes were bugging out of her head, and her knuckles gripped the chair in an eerie echo of Harry's hands the night before when they had sat in this room._

_"Yes. Draco Malfoy." The statement was infuriatingly simple, and Hermione proceeded to storm out of the room to go pack her things._

Hermione snapped back to present when she felt a soft pressure on her arm.

"Herm? You alright?" Ron's clear blue eyes stared back at her as she grappled a moment with a suitable answer that did not include an exclamation involving a certain pale slytherin who was waiting for them in the only sanctuary they now had.

"Yes. Yes quite alright." She made a feeble attempt at a smile, but it ended up materializing as more of a grimace. Ron placed a comforting arm around her and she thought nothing more about it, though she found herself wishing that the boy who the arm was attached to had green eyes instead of blue.

XXXX

Ginevra Weasley was not a happy girl.

Her feet hurt.

She had scratches on her face from branches that swung out of nowhere every once and awhile.

She was sweaty and covered in dirt.

And she was mad. Very mad.

She clomped along with the rest of the group. McGonagall was up front, with Harry and Ron not trailing far behind. Hermione came next, and Ginny came last. Like always. She irritably brushed a piece of flaming hair back out of her eyes, and sent Harry a scathing look. By the time she raised her eyes from the ground again, Ron had fallen behind Harry and his arm was perched lazily around Hermione's small shoulders. Ginny grinned a little at the sight.

By now, what sky she could see above was darkening, which meant that they had been walking for an obscene amount of time. She lowered her eyes again, and suddenly a tall pillar of warmth slammd into her. Well, _she_ slammed into _it_. And she promptly fell over.

"For Merlin's sakes Gin..." Her brother leaned over, grabbed her arm, and hauled her off of her arse and back onto her feet.

"Right. Sorry." She muttered.

"We'll stop here to eat." McGonagall's imperious voice wafted over to them, and they all sat down heavily on logs or boulders, glad to have an extended rest. The older woman took out some bread, cold chicken, and a flask of pumpkin juice and passed it around. They all sat in companionable silence while they ate, until McGonagall froze. Her arms were halfway to her mouth, pumpkin juice in hand.

"Nobody move." She uttered and slowly reached for her wand. Ginny was quite thoroughly terrified at this point, and followed the orders without a second thought. Out of the corner of her eye, Ginny could see that Harry, Ron and Hermione had all drawn their wands and were throwing each other weary looks. She followed suit and her blood ran cold when she heard a twig snap behind her. She slowly rotated her head to the left, half of her screaming in fright and the other half pushing her onward.

She had hardly noticed before, but the dark had been slowly creeping up on them. In the little light they had left, Ginny could see three pale figures standing behind them.

"Shit." She thought it was Ron who had made the sound, but it really didn't matter because it kick started them into action.

"Who are you?" She had suprised herself when she spoke the words, and the three heads snapped towards her. They all were tall, their skin sallow and almost translucent. All she could see was that they were garbed in all black, and in the gathering darkness she couldn't make out details. The one thing she _could_ see well were their eyes. They were a light, icy blue that caused her to have the odd sensation of somebody dissecting her brain. The edges of her vision began to blur, but she couldn't break the gaze.

She was aware of the fact that she couldn't feel her feet, then her legs, until the numbness had worked its way through her body, and all she was aware of were those beautiful eyes. Her vision darkened, and vauge noises registered in her brain, as though they came from far, far away. Something covered her eyes, and she was disconnected from the vampires stare. After a moment she came to a realization. She was sitting in front of _vampires._ Just _sitting_ there. What was she _doing?_

She realized it was her own hand breaking the contact, and she leapt nimbly to her feet. Grabbing blindly at her side, and felt her hand close around a rough stick. She looked to her left, and saw Hermione shooting spells at a vampire, who was mercilessly advancing as he dodged her hexes. His lips were curled back in a ferocious snarl, his fangs standing out in sharp contrast. She didn't bother to look and see where Harry and Ron were, but she could hear scuffling behind her. She advanced toward Hermione slowly, and it appeared that neither the brown haired girl, nor the enormous vampire had noticed her yet.

_Still invisible_.

She glanced down at the stick in her hand, and quickly muttered a spell to sharpen the end into a spike. Bracing herself, she lunged forward in front of Hermione and blindly thrust the stick in the general direction of the creature's torso. Her heart was racing and it sped up even more as she saw that he had grabbed her crude spike a moment before it hit its target.

"Hermione, now!" Ginny commanded. She heard say something, and a ball of light whizzed past her head, narrowly missing the vampire. He was momentarily suprised, and Ginny took advantage of its guard being let down and put all of her weight on the stick, shoving it into its chest. A slight squelching sound was heard, but no blood came out of the wound. The pale monster's eyes widened and its large hands dropped to its side. A low, kneeing cry was emitted from its throat, before it crumpled and disintegrated, until there was nothing left but a pile of dust.

Ginny raised her eyes to Hermione and she moaned "Harry, Ron..." and they went off in search of the two boys and their Professor. They had traveled a few yards behind them when they saw the three figures, silhuoetted by the slight moonlight that filtered through the trees, standing next to two other piles of ash.

Hermione dashed forward and threw her arms around Harry, while Ron stood back a bit, looking faintly troubled. Ginny stepped forward more slowly, and placed a hand on his arm in reassurance.

"I take it the two of you took care of the other one." McGonagall spoke quietly, her voiced carefully measured and controlled.

Ginny nodded slightly.

"We had best press on, then."

Harry started walking first, and the rest followed suit.

XXXX

Ron was frustrated. And scared. Which, for him, were not particularly the best combination of emotions in a stressful situation. And surely, this was stressful. He walked behind his Professor, not looking back at Harry and Hermione, who were walking so their shoulders touched and were talking under their breath. Ginny walked next to him, just as silent, and probably just as angry, as far as he could tell.

The vampires had shaken him up, but not nearly as much as how Hermione had come running to Harry. Harry, not him. _Dammit, he even gets the girl_.

The trees were beginning to become thinner, and when he looked up, he could see the stars twinkling up above him with a mocking light as if to say 'Haha, you lose. Again. There's nothing you can do about it!'. The sad thing was, he figured the stars were right.

Professor McGonagall held out her arm to stop him. Up ahead, the trees came to an abrupt end, leaving only rolling, open hills illuminated by moonlight. The others had stopped behind him.

"Let me put your Disillusionment charms back on you." She turned and tapped Ron on the head, and again felt the odd sensation of having something poured on your head. "Everybody, take a hand so that we don't lose eachother." She grabbed Ron's hand, and he in turn grabbed Hermione's, which was a small measure of comfort.

They journeyed out of the trees slowly, with McGonagall and Harry drawing their wands, for they were the only ones left with a hand to spare. They walked across fields and up hills and on and on until Ron couldn't see the Forbidden Forest any longer. Ron felt naked and exposed in the field, suddenly wary of his surroundings. She stopped him yet again, this time at the base of a low hill, and let go of his hand. Stepping forward, she spoke a series of words and gesturing wildly with her wand until the air in front of them began to shimmer. Almost as soon as it had begun, it stopped and a large, magnificent house appeared at the top of the hill.

She began to walk forward, and they came up the hill behind her. It was a long climb, and when they finally reached the front door, McGonagall reached out and grasped the eagle knocker and banged four times in a move that baffled even Ron. But Hermione didn't look too suprised, he noticed, and she grimaced as the door flew open and there stood Draco Malfoy.

XXXX

_Earlier that day_

Draco Malfoy was also not happy. Not in the least.

He wandered the halls, looking for Snape, but he was nowhere to be found. Finally, he stumbled upon the kitchen, which looked as though it had been recently cleaned, unlike the rest of the massive house, which was covered in dust bunnies big enough to eat a hippogriff.

Draco strode over to the cabinet, and opened it slowly. It had been stocked with essential foods, and Draco snorted in excuse. Was he expected to actually eat _potatoes?_ He turned on his heel and surveyed the kitchen with a raised eyebrow. Something caught his eye during his careful survey of the room. On the table was a piece of parchment,

_Draco,_

_You probably came looking for me this morning, but I am no longer here. I had to leave on orders, and I expect you to stay here. Professor McGonagall will be there shortly to inform you what is going on. Feel free to look around, but don't leave the house, I will know if you do._

_Snape_

_Damn. _The parchment was crumpled in his hand as he walked out of the room to go explore.

After a thorough search of the house, he head four short knocks on the door. He walked slowly up to it, and opened it slowly. There was Professor McGonagall, and behind her was Potty, Weasel, the Mudblood, and the Weaselette.

He shut the door and walked away with a smirk planted firmly on his face.


	3. Ginny can smirk?

A/N: Alright, thank you to all of you who have read/reviewed so far! I do believe at the moment we're up to 132 hits! Yay!

Big thanks to my Beta/Best Friend/Therapist/Everything else. You rock and I don't know what I would do without you, Kenz!

So, without further ado, here is chapter numero 3!

He shut the door and walked away with a smirk planted firmly on his face.

The door creaked open behind him as he leaned against a wall, drawing his arms around himself. He observed their haggard appearance. The five looked as if they might drop dead right on the doorstep. His demeanor shook a little when he laid eyes on Ginny. Her long, red hair was wild and tangled, with bits of leaf and twig stuck out at odd angles from her head. Her face was covered in soot and dirt, and if her robes had been tatty before, they certainly weren't going to see the light of day ever again. But her eyes were what made him stop a moment. Though the rest of her looked defeated, her eyes blazed with a passion and fury he hadn't seen in a long time.

His stare was broken when Weasel stepped in front of her, cutting off his view with his hulking frame. He looked as enraged as ever; his cheeks were ruddy; turning a hue that matched his hair. Large fists were balled at his sides. Draco sniggered inwardly. _No control_.

"Why look, it's the dream team." drawled Malfoy in a lazy fashion as he leaned against the pillar. Ginny noted that he resembled a cat. A large, deadly cat. His robes were still torn, and he had a gash along the side of his face. His hair, however was intact as always, and somehow even the dirt on his face managed to look dashing instead of grimy. _Only Malfoy could make dirt look good. Wait, good? No. Not good. Certainly not good. Oh, bugger it_, Ginny thought.

"Why don't you just scurry off to your little Death Eater buddies, eh Malfoy?" Harry had stepped closer, but Hermione's arm flew up to stop him. By now, Draco's wand was situated in his alabaster hand and he was advancing toward Harry with a rather mad gleam in his eye.

"Enough!" All eyes swiveled to meet the Headmistress' eyes. "You all are acting like first years. Mister Malfoy, I trust that Professor Snape had previously informed you of our arrival?" Draco nodded, almost imperceptibly. "Good. Let's all sit down and have a talk." With that she swept out of the room and down the hall, leaving the five teenagers to glare bayfully at one another, but nobody made another move to attack each other, and for that Ginny was grateful. Having Malfoy curse off Ron's ears or something equally as dreadful was not exactly what was needed at the moment.

Ginny moved first, striding down the hall that McGonagall had just disappeared down. The house was old, all right. Dust seemed to cover every surface, and there were ancient tapestries and paintings so grimy that she could hardly see the inhabitants. Sconces lit the way as she moved down the corridor, and she followed the footsteps imprinted in the dust on the stone floor.

She came into a large room with a fire, and the room was clean, she noted, unlike the rest of the mansion she had seen. McGonagall stood by the fire, and appeared to be slicing something up with her wand and levitating it into the cauldron hanging over the smoldering fire, which was filled with bubbling water. As she came closer she realized they were potatoes, and hastened to help her Professor with the cooking.

The others shuffled into different corners of the room. There was a large window at the far end of the kitchen, and Harry took a chair and dragged it to the sill and sat down without looking at anyone, gazing off into the night. Hermione took up residence in a chair by the fire, and Ron sat next to her. She couldn't see where the ferret was, but she really didn't care enough to look. _Figures that he would be here. It was a little too good to be true, having a safe house that Voldemort didn't know about. Of course there's a catch._ She sighed and proceeded to cut up some carrots and throw them in the cauldron as well_. I don't care what the Order says. Malfoy is an evil git. A cowardly, evil git who couldn't follow orders. Even if they were the Dark Lord's. It doesn't matter whose orders they were. If he couldn't follow them then, what makes all of them think that he'll be able to follow them now?_

As she moved onto the celery, she felt the most peculiar creeping feeling winding its way up her neck. It gave her goose pimples up and down her arms, and she let out a shiver. Turning her head slightly, she saw that in the firelight Malfoy's eyes were watching her intently. Even as she broke eye contact and turned back to her work, she still felt his gaze on her back, and felt unsettled.

XXXX

Draco's eyes stayed on the littlest Weasley as she let out a shudder. _Good_, he thought, _let her be scared. She should be scared. Who wouldn't be?_ He let his gaze sweep over the grand kitchen for the second time that night. Potter, the insufferable git, was sulking in the corner, no doubt having a pity party for himself. Weasel and Granger were sitting by the fire, looking sickeningly cozy if Draco could say so himself. _Even Weasley is better than that._

But his gaze strayed back to Ginny, who had swept her long hair back into an untidy bun as she worked; her back turned to him as she was cutting up Merlin knows what to put into what appeared to be some sort of stew that they would no doubt want him to consume_. Disgusting_.

XXXX

Harry gazed morosely out of the large window in the kitchen. Sure, he was happy enough about having a place like this to stay, but he'd have to put up with Malfoy? _I'm supposed to be preparing for this battle thing, and I have to do it in the presence of Malfoy. Wonderful_. A frustrated noise somewhere between a grunt and a sigh escaped through his lips. A hand ran through the unruly hair that covered his head in an unconscious gesture that mirrored his father. Bright emerald eyes slipped from the inky sky outside of the window to Ginny, who was concentrating on making them food next to McGonagall.

He thought she looked beautiful, with her hair pulled back haphazardly, completely absorbed into her task. The firelight danced around her head, and produced a halo effect that left Harry's heart pounding a little harder than was necessary. Like a magnet, Malfoy drew his attention from across the room. He was staring at Ginny, with a look on his face that Harry could not quite describe. Cold, yes. Indifferent, certainly. But there was something else there. Curiosity? Maybe. All he knew was that if the curiosity involved Ginny, it couldn't be a good thing.

XXXX

The six gathered around the table in front of the hearth. Ginny wrapped her hands around the mug of stew, grateful from the warmth that radiated from it. The table was large, round, and made of a warm, dark wood. There were deep scratches across the surface, and she suspected that once upon a time servants had eaten here.

McGonagall spoke first.

"As you all should know by now, this is the hereditary residence of the Ravenclaw line. Rowena herself grew up in this house. It hasn't been inhabited for near a century, and it seems that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has overlooked this place. It seemed like a logical place for the five of you to stay.

"Being the Ravenclaw house, there is an immense library. The Order believes that there is a book there, one with information about Horcruxes. How they are created, and more importantly, how they are destroyed. Albus died with the secret of how they are dismantled, and we need to know for the future. It also is thought to include how they are detected and other such things.

"We need you to stay here for awhile, until you are more thoroughly prepared for the battle. There are more spell books in that library than you could ever read in a lifetime. Use it to your advantage." At this she turned to Hermione, who was taking it all in with a stony expression. Ginny wasn't very surprised, but then she realized that this was it. They were preparing for _war_.

"Harry, do you have any idea where any of the other Horcruxes may be? Dumbledore showed you those memories in the pensieve. They may aid in the search."

"Uh. Well" Harry sat up a little straighter, paying more attention now that he was being directly addressed, "There's the orphanage he grew up in, I guess. Maybe the Riddle House?" He looked at a loss, and Ginny felt a stab of pity for him.

McGonagall nodded her head slightly, and Ginny could practically see the cogs turning in the older woman's head. Her lips had drawn into a long, thin line as they was prone to do every once in awhile. "That's it, I suppose. I will be in contact shortly." She stood up, and they all stood with her. Ginny felt confused. _Be in contact? Why -- why would she need to be 'in contact'?_ Her silent question was answered a moment later when McGonagall took out a handful of brilliant green powder from the folds of her cloak and threw it in the fire.

"Wait! You're leaving?" Ron looked incredulous.

"Yes, Mister Weasley." She sounded slightly exasperated, and a moment later she turned on her heel, threw the powder in the fire which flared up and turned a vivid emerald and she disappeared, leaving them to look at each other in silence, yet again.

Harry cleared his throat, "Uh, Gin? Can I talk to you?" He had his hands balled into fists, stuck in his pockets. She had to admit he looked adorable, but, alas, it couldn't be done.

"No, actually." She threw a smirk his way, and in an imitation of McGonagall, turned on her heel and swept out of the room leaving a rather distraught looking Harry.

XXXX

_Where on Earth did that girl learn to smirk like that? Wait, no. She's not a girl. She's less than a girl. She's an IT._ Draco snorted in derision and walked out of the room behind her. _But she does know just how to make Pothead miserable. That, I can respect._

Draco made his way back to the room that he now considered his. He didn't want to be around the idiots he now had to call housemates at the moment.

XXXX

"So..." Ron was rather at a loss. Harry was sulking, and he knew that he wanted to run off and lick his wounds by himself. _Dammit, Ginny._

"Why don't we go find some rooms, hmm?" Harry and Hermione nodded their consent, and with that they left the kitchen and entered the wide corridor. To the right, it opened up into the Foyer, where they first came in. Ron remembered seeing a staircase, so he turned and the others followed. He had remembered right; a grand staircase wound its way to a second floor. When Ron set food on the first stair, a cloud of dust rose to meet him and launched him into a violent coughing fit.

Hermione waved her wand, "Scourgify" and the grime in the immediate vicinity cleared up, leaving the ornate carpet on the stairs clean. They walked up slowly, glancing suspiciously at the large cobwebs that covered most of the surfaces, and Ron suspected that some of the spiders were nearly as his hand. _Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit._

He could feel the blood rushing out of his face, probably leaving him white as a sheet. He was determined to keep going and not scream like a ninny, which he wanted so badly to do right now, and Hermione shot him an amused smile, no doubt at his obvious nervousness. This warmed his heart a bit. _Anything to get a smile, I suppose. _He trudged on a little harder, until they reached the landing. _At least this one doesn't move_. He thought wryly.

The second floor looked almost identical to the first, except for scattered; ceiling length windows with moth-eaten sapphire drapes that let off a musty scent.

Harry reached out and grasped the rusty handle of a door off to their right, and pushed it open. There was a bed and a wardrobe in the far corner, and a mirror hanging on one of the walls.

"I'll take this one." Harry muttered. He nodded, and motioned for Hermione to follow him out of the room. He gently shut the door behind him, and they walked on.

"I hope he's okay." Hermione looked upset, and Ron sighed.

"Why don't we try to find the library?" Hermione nodded again, and they set out down the long hall, looking in every door they came across.

XXXX

Minerva McGonagall walked up a cold, dark street in the heart of London. After a moment, she came to a house, with a large 12 above the door. She walked up with the grace of a cat and knocked on the door. A second later, Severus Snape opened the door, his mouth formed into a tight grimace that Minerva thought didn't suit him at all.

He stepped back to admit her into the newly cleansed house that was Number 12, Grimmauld Place.

"They are safe, then?" He muttered.

Her head bobbed up and down for a moment in an affirmative movement, and she swept further into the house.

"We might have trouble with the Malfoy boy." She said in a tight voice.

"Of course we will have trouble with Draco. This is a Malfoy we're dealing with here." A small chuckle escaped his mouth in an uncharacteristic gesture.

"Potter suggested the Riddle House and the Orphanage." She continued as if she hadn't heard him, "Exactly what we suspected."

"We're in for a long ride."

"Yes, I suppose we are."

XXXX

Ginny tossed and turned in her bed. She had found the rooms hours ago, and had decided to go to sleep. She had been certain that she would be able to sleep without a problem, considering her last twenty-four hours. But every time she came even close to sleep, images of Ferret Boy popped into her head, and sleep eluded her yet again.

With a groan, she slipped out of bed and pulled on her robes.

It was time for a midnight exploration.

A/N: Well, there it is! Please go review! But then, I understand if your poor little fingers are too tired to type in a few words of constructive criticism/words of praise and click the mouse.

Preview of chapter 4:

Ginny goes exploring

Hermione finally finds her library

We get some D/G interaction

Who ends up storming off in a huff? Is it Draco? Or is it Ginny?


	4. Quickie

A/N:

Ok, well, for all of the people who have been reading this so far, thank you, but I do believe its gotten over 200 reads but only four comments? Hmm….

Please go review. I know it's a pain in the butt for most of you, but A) it really makes my day and B) It tells me how to cater better to the readers (AKA you guys).

But thanks to ayeah, GinnyDracoFan, and Got-Slash 91 for reviewing.

Ayeah: Good to know you like the writing!

Got-slash 91: I know…but in this case…snape is not nice….but maybe in another story? I'm glad you like my descriptions, its one of my favorite things about writing fiction. Ron is going to be miserable. Oh well, he deserves it, and you'll see why later (that's a clue people)

GinnyDracoFan: Pioggia di Fuoco means "Rain of Fire". Glad you think so.


	5. Duels and Houselves named Inky

A/N: Here's chapter 4, as promised! Thank you for all of the reviews so far! And Kenz, you're the best beta a girl could ask for! Read on!

Also, all of the spells used in this chapter were mentioned in the series, even if I made the incantation up, they are still property of JKR and exist in canon.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything you recognize. All of It belongs to JKR (except for my brilliant plotline of course :p) so please don't sue! I have no money!

It was time for a midnight exploration.

Ginny's hand cupped the knob of the door and pushed gently. A loud creak reverberated from the door and she jumped slightly at the noise. Slowing her breath, she tried again, and this time the door opened with ease.

She stepped out into the hallway; which was dark the way it can only be in the wee hours of the morning. Shadows clung to the corners, causing the passage to take of a sinister appearance.

"**_Lumos_**" Ginny held up her wand, and the corridor was filled with a soft light. She padded down the hall a few yards; her bare feet making a faint slapping noise against the stone. On her right, one of the enormous windows showed a full moon and a sky scattered with brilliant stars.

Ginny stopped and trod over to the grimy windowpane and placed an ivory hand onto the glass. In the chill of the night, condensation appeared around it, and when she took it away again, it left a ghostly handprint on the window.

Ginny stared at it, letting her thoughts drift idly to a certain boy with black hair and eyes the color of pickled toads. _I thought I loved him._ She turned her back to the window and leaned against it; her form casting a long shadow on the opposite wall, framing her in moonlight.

_But I know better now. I thought I could fix him, make all of the hurt go away. But that's not my job. I've seen how Hermione looks at him. He needs her more than he needs me. The boy I loved isn't Harry Potter. I thought I knew him, but now, I know that all of those years I loved what I thought Harry was, not what he actually is. Before, Harry was flawless; the perfect hero. _

_Now, at least, I know who he is. I know he has weaknesses. I know he's scared. And—that's not the Harry that I loved. _

She shivered and moved on down the passage. A door different from the others caught her eye. Instead of the usual ornate carved wood, this one was unadorned and made of a darker wood. The handle was what appeared to be a simple bronze sphere, and she ambled cautiously over to it.

Hoping not to have a repeat performance her door performed a few minutes earlier, she pushed the door open slowly, but to her immense relief, all it did was scrape vaguely against the floor.

The entrance led straight into a snaking stairway. The stairs themselves were made of the same wood as the door, and Ginny looked at them ominously. She figured that they were at least as old as the house, and the weight of time itself seemed to cause them to sag in places.

She took a deep breath, _here goes nothing._

Ginny gingerly placed a socked foot onto the first step. Carefully shifting her weight from one leg to another, she placed her other foot onto the next one.

When she didn't fall through the floor to her death (like she suspected she would), she kept going; albeit painfully slow.

She was about halfway up the flight of steps when a loud creak resounded from the step currently situated under her left foot. _Bugger_.

"Who's there?" Ginny jumped for the second time that night. The voice came from the top of the stairs. _Is that—Malfoy? That's Malfoy's voice. Must be. What in the world….?_

"Malfoy?" She crept up a few more stairs, wanting to turn back around. But she knew she would never hear the end of it if she fled now.

"What are you doing, Weasley?"

"I could ask you the same thing, Malfoy." She reached the top of the flight of stairs. The entrance was door-less and opened up into a chamber. Ginny let out a sigh of pleasure at the room. The ceiling appeared to be enchanted in the same way the Great Hall was. Light from the moon and stars cast a white glow across the span of the chamber.

She stepped into the light, and felt a peculiar sensation on her feet. She glanced down and smiled faintly at the sight of grass growing out of the floorboards. Ginny lifted her eyes up to look at Malfoy, who was situated on the ground a little ways from her, gazing at the ceiling. He was lying down, with his hands behind his head. While he was sprawled on the floor and appeared to be relaxed, she knew better. Judging from the clenching of his jaw, he was anything but.

Ginny sat down a ways from him, hoping that if she didn't say anything, he would simply ignore her. After a moment, she was reassured that she wouldn't have to suffer through a session of verbal abuse and turned her eyes upward. The stars and moon appeared so close that she could reach a fingertip out and touch them. She absentmindedly allowed her hand to graze the tips of the grass, side to side, in an unconscious movement.

Ginny closed her eyes, and forgot entirely that on the other side of the room there was a blonde haired boy watching her who shouldn't have been.

XXXX

_Stupid Father. Stupid Voldemort. Stupid Death Eaters. Stupid **everything!** _Draco had found his way up to his little hide-out once more. He had stumbled across it the night before during his search for Snape, and had somehow made his way up here again tonight when he couldn't sleep.

_No bloody wonder I can't sleep. I have to share a house with Harry bleeding Potter and the Sod Squad; The Dream Team; The Golden Trio; The Aide Brigade. _Draco Malfoy let a very un-Malfoyish snort of contempt escape his nose.

_This whole thing is daft. _He gently brushed back what remained of the robe sleeves on his left arm. The Dark Mark stood out starkly against the white of his forearm. Draco winced; it had burned and throbbed constantly before, but the last two days, it felt as if a brander had been thrust onto his skin.

He thought he had been lucky, when he first received the Mark. He had viewed it as an honor, something to be proud of. A smile that was more of a grimace twisted his face into something that did not look entirely human.

Back then. Back when his Father was his Idol. Back when being a Malfoy meant everything. When bringing honor to the family was his only goal; the only thing that mattered. _Now the only thing that matters is surviving. So much for glory and power._

_I don't want this thing on my arm. But I certainly don't want to join Potter and his cult full of Do-Gooders. And Snape was screwing dear old father over all these years? How much more messed up can this world get?_

Draco was pulled back to reality when a loud creak echoed up from the stairs. _What the--?_

"Who's there?" Draco felt stupid asking. It didn't matter much, did it? If it was a Dark Wizard he would be dead in about thirty seconds, and if it was anybody else, well, they didn't matter much, did they?

A pause, and then, "Malfoy?" _Ah. The Weaselette. Dandy._ He heard her creep up a few more stairs.

He sighed and rubbed his hand across his eyes, which were red from lack of sleep. "What are you doing here, Weasley?"

"I could ask you the same thing, Malfoy"

She walked into the room a moment later, and Draco couldn't tear his eyes away for a moment. Her skin was milky white in the moonlight and she had left her hair down, and it looked a little tidier than it had upon her arrival. He turned his head away and clenched his jaw. _Stop staring at her._

She stood there a moment, and crossed the room to the corner farthest away from him, and lay down in the grass without another word.

How long it was before she spoke, he couldn't tell. It could have been seconds, minutes, hours even. But when she did, her voice was throaty from not using it for a long time; the way one sounds after just waking up.

"Do you think it was Rowena who charmed the ceiling in Hogwarts?" It was a truly absurd question. If one was going to ask something, why that? Draco rolled his eyes.

"I don't know Weasley. Ask the Mudblood. She's always got her nose stuck in that damn book. What is it called?" She sat up, probably furious at the casual use of the word. _So sensitive_.

"Hogwarts: A History. And If I ever hear you speak of Hermione that way again I will personally hex you until you will resemble the dirt on this floor." _Feisty, are we? Two can play at that game._

"I would like to see you try, Weasley." He swiveled his head to look at her out of the corner of his eye. Her face was flushed a deep red that matched her pretty little head. She stood and strode over to him. Draco sighed and stood slowly. _This is probably not a good idea. Oh, sod it._

But, unfortunately for him, Ginny Weasley thought quite the contrary, and seemed to think that now was the perfect time for a duel.

"**_Avis_**" She hissed, and a flock of little birds came swooping out of her wand.

"Damn it Weasley! If you're going to duel, do it right!" However, this fell of deaf ears and he saw her smirk with satisfaction as he ducked to avoid the birds flying around his head and pecking at any exposed skin. _Oh, she's in for it now. Sod not cursing a girl. She hit me first!_

"**_Locomotor Mortis_**" She yelped as her legs snapped together, and she promptly fell over.

"You can't win, Weas—Fuck!" She muttered something under his breath, and he felt an odd swelling sensation in his nose, just as bogeys began flying out of his nostrils, and, without delay, began attacking his face.

"**_Finite Incantantem_**! You really need to get some new material; I've seen that one already. **_Aguamenti_**!" A powerful jet of water streamed out of his wand and hit her square in the chest, causing her to fall over again after freeing her legs of his leg-locker curse.

She rapidly fired back a twitchy ears jinx, and Draco was annoyed to find that the wiggling was starting to distract him.

"Well, this has been fun, Weasley, but I must insist that I leave you now. **_Incarcerous_**!" He began to walk away slowly, and once the ropes that had sprung from his wand had fully wound around her torso, he broke into a run.

"Oh, I don't think so, Malfoy. **_Colloportus_**!" The door far below made a squelching noise as it sealed itself after she pointed her wand at the opening. How she did that with her arms tied to her sides, he would never know.

"What more do you want, Weasley? I beat you. You're the one laying on the floor in ropes. It doesn't get much clearer than that."

"Wrong, Ferret." Her arms suddenly sprung from her sides, the ropes coiling to the floor and vanishing. "**_Expelliarmus_**! **_Incarcerous_**!"

Draco let out a yell as his wand flew out of his hand, hitting the opposite wall, and ropes identical to those that had been wrapped around the Weasley brat coiled around his middle; pinning his arms to his sides. _Where the _hell_ did she learn to duel like that?_ Draco felt a rush of grudging admiration for the slight girl now standing before him. _Well, I suppose she had to survive in the hell-hole they call a home somehow._

"You put up a good fight, Malfoy," She twirled his wand between her fingers, and dropped it at his feet, "Just not good enough. **_Finite Incantantem_**" the ropes disappeared and Draco grabbed his wand from the floor. He stood up and tucked it back into his robes.

"Where did you learn to duel like that? You're good." Did that sound like a compliment? "For a Weasley anyway." _That's better._

"Having six older brothers will do that to you."

"Yes, I suppose it would." Not that he would know.

To his surprise, Weasley sat back down on the grass and looked up at the sky, which was starting to lighten in one of the corners. He decided to sit as well. _What could it hurt?_

"Malfoy?"

"What?"

"Why are you here?" The question threw him off guard. _She wants to _know

"Do you really want to know?" He asked quietly. Nobody had actually asked him _why_ before.

"Yes" she said simply. He paused, then answered slowly,

"Because I was supposed to kill Dumbledore, and I couldn't do it. Now I have a Dark Wizard chasing after me. I wasn't supposed to survive; I was to be killed in the attempt. Voldemort's revenge on my father for getting himself thrown into Azkaban." He finished softly, but there was a belying edge to his voice that gave away exactly how he felt about being locked up in this house with her.

"Does this mean you're on our side now?"

"No"

"No?"

"I'm not on anybody's side but my own."

"It doesn't work like that, you know. You're either with us, or against us. You want Voldemort gone, or you don't."

"Then I suppose I'm with you" He stood back up, and walked out of the room after unsealing the door, leaving a very startled Ginny Weasley in his wake.

He was halfway to his room when he realized his ears were still twitching from her jinx, and he smiled just the tiniest bit.

XXXX

The next morning, Hermione awoke with a jolt. Her bed sheets were tangled up around her legs, and she was drenched in a cold sweat. _Just a dream_. Her head thumped back against the pillow in a sigh of frustration.

She and Ron had not been able to find the library last night. Not that she was entirely focused on the task to begin with. _I really hope Harry is doing alright_.

Hermione popped out of bed (she always was a morning person) and made her way down to the kitchen. She looked down at her attire and frowned. She was still in the clothing she had worn during the battle at Hogwarts. _Not much I can do about it at the moment._

After three wrong turns and two mistaken doors, Hermione finally found her way to the kitchen. Ron was already up, and seemed to be drinking tea. _What looks different?_

"Ron! Where did you get clean robes?"

"McGonagall dropped in this morning. She was in a real hurry, though. Left a stack of clothes for us, I guess. There's some in there for you too, 'Mione."

"Thanks Ron" Breakfast entirely forgotten, Hermione dug through the stack of clothes that her Professor had left for the five of them. After finding something acceptable to wear, she tore out of the room to go change. _What I wouldn't give for a hot shower right now._

After changing and casting a brushing charm on her hair, Hermione set off in search of the mysterious library once again.

An hour later, she had searched the entire second story of the house. She had found quite a lot of fascinating artifacts, but no library, and she was beginning to get frustrated.

Hermione sped down the grand staircase yet again, and started on the first floor.

She opened the first door she came across. Empty room. And so were the next five rooms.

One of them was a room made entirely of mirrors, and Hermione would have stayed to inspect, but she wanted to find the library too badly to pause to examine it.

By now, she was quite certain that she had opened every single door in the house. _Was Professor McGonagall _wrong_? No. Couldn't be._ Hermione sat down on the floor and leaned back against the wall. _This is pointless—_

She heard a grinding noise vibrate from within the wall. Without further warning, a portion of wall behind her disappeared and she fell backwards with a muffled scream. She squeezed her eyes shut and rolled a ways downhill before coming to a stop at the bottom of the incline.

"Is the Missus Rowena hurt?" _What--?_ Hermione opened her eyes and screamed again at the sight that met her eyes. Standing above her immobile form was a particularly ancient looking house elf.

"Who are you?" Hermione scrambled to her feet and brushed herself off hurriedly. Glancing around, she smiled. A vast room with incredibly high, vaulted ceilings met her eyes. And it was filled to the brim with books. _Looks like I've found it._

Her attention, however, was drawn back to the little house elf standing before her. _Did it just call me Rowena?_

"I is Inky, Missus. Is you not remembering me?" _Inky? How do I know that name?_

"I don't believe we have ever met, Inky"

"Well, we must've, Missus. Only Miss Rowena can come in here."

"What do you mean, Inky?" She was genuinely confused now.

"Only Miss Rowena can open the door to her library. This is her library, so missus, you must be Miss Rowena."

XXXX

Well, there you have it people! Chapter four! Go review! Now! Shoo!


	6. The Portrait

"Inky, Iâ€™m afraid you must be mistaken." Hermione sat down shakily in the nearest chair.

"Inky show you!" The House Elf bounded off, disappearing behind one of the hulking book shelves. Hermion****was about to get up and go after her (well, Hermione _thought_ it was a her) when Inky came running back to her with a giant book, looking like she might topple over from the weight of it.

She allowed the book to drop to the floor, and as the pages flopped open dust that seemed to have accumulated over the centuries blew up in thick clouds to engulf the both of them. Once the dust cleared, Hermione was able to see she was looking at an extremely old book, with an illustration standing out starkly against the yellowed parchment. It was a portrait...of Hermione. Only, it was Hermione with blue eyes, and dressed in archaic clothing. But other than those details, the picture was almost a perfect match to the girl who was frozen from shock. A hand covered her mouth as she gasped.

"Inky told the missus Rowena!" the little house elf was bouncing up and down with barely contained enthusiasm, obviously excited by the return of her mistress.

"Inky, I don't think you understand," Hermione's voice was shaky with emotion, and she began wondering who she was trying to convince, herself or Inky? "My name is Hermione Granger. I'm a muggleborn witch, there is no way I could possibly be your Rowena." she finished kindly.

But with this, Inky's smile only grew broader and a twinkle entered her eye. "Whatever you say, missus". The little elf took her by the hand and began to steer her through the library. With every step she took, Hermione was more and more entranced with the library. There was so much here...so much knowledge. Her hands itched to grab books off of one of the shelves, but she controlled herself and allowed to be shown around by the curious creature she was now holding hands with.

The massive shelves wound and twisted until Hermione was sure that if Inky wasn't guiding her, it would have taken her hours to find her way out of the tunnels that the books created. Ancient looking sconces mounted on the walls flared up as they walked by, illuminating the tarnished silver of their fastenings. They soon came to a more open space, resembling a clearing in a forest of books. There were two large windows that were easily twenty feet tall and ten feet wide; and the morning sunlight streamed through the colored glass. In the center of them, there was a large tapestry, and Hermione gasped again for what seemed the millionth time that day.

It was a painting of what appeared to be the four founders, with Rowena and Helga sitting in high-backed wooden chairs, and Salazar and Godric standing behind them. Salazar looked stiff and imposing, but when Hermione examined his face, she found the slightest smirk gracing his lipsGodric had his sword at his side, while his other hand rested lightly on Rowena's shoulder, who had a smear of ink on her cheek. The characteristic Hufflepuff grin was plastered on Helga's face, and that was when Hermione realized that the occupants of the picture were stationary; where in normal pictures they would be moving around and conversing with eachother.

"Inky?"

"Yes, miss?"

"Why aren't they moving?" Hermione stepped closer to the portrait and slowly reached her hand out to caress the picture with her fingers.

Inky appeared to think for a moment; her brow furrowed in concentration, "I is not knowing, missus. I is not having been back to this place for a long time. The missus Rowena put a spell on me and she said "_Now Inky, when I return, you will wake up from the sleep I'm going to put me in" _And that is all I remember until you came in through the wall!"

Hermione's eyes narrowed. _I wonder...perhaps she put a spell on the portrait as well? But why would she put a portrait to sleep? I haven't ever heard of such a thing._ Hermione turned her eyes down to the little elf and said "I think I should go fetch the others. Can you help me out of here?"

Inky scurried off through the shelves and looked back and said, "Just follow me!"

Hermione set off behind her, but her pace was slow; quite opposite of the speeds her thoughts were racing through her head. She needed to show the others what she had found.

XXXX

Ginny woke with a start. _What the hell--why am I lying on grass? Oh..._ Memories of last night came crashing into her head and she groaned and thumped back down, unknowingly mimicking Draco's actions of the morning before. Last night had definetly been one of the strangest nights of her life, and she had had some very strange nights if she did say so herself.

_I can't believe...I mean...I talked with Malfoy...Then I dueled with him...And then we talked some more...and he's on our side?_ A noise that was somewhere between a groan and a sigh escaped from her chapped lips (she had the bad habit of biting them when she was worried or nervous). _He must be messing with me. He has to be. He's messing with all of us, just waiting to get revenge and kill us all, and take Harry to Voldemort._

But that little voice niggling at the back of her head stilled her. _But what if he's telling the truth?_ Ginny had been about to stand up and leave, but she sat back down and rested her chin on her knees. Malfoy had always treated her badly, and the duel they had last night made her think that she was right in thinking that she was right about his betrayal. Right.But the way he sounded when he talked to her...there was really no way she could discount that. The way he sounded...there was no possible way he could have lied to her like that. _Well, _Ginny thought_, it was possible. _But at this momment Ginny didn't care what the possibilities were; she knew deep in her gut what was true and what wasn't.

So Ginny Weasley decided to do what she always did in these situations: she made a list in her head.

_Well, he's treated me like crap for 6 years of his life, his father tried to kill me...**Ginny Weasley you know that doesnt count! he's not his father...**ok, so what else? He tried to kill Dumbledore...and he led all of those Death Eaters into the school! _

_But he said that he had to kill Dumbledore or be killed...he doesn't want to be a death eater! I just know it._

With that Ginny finally did stand up and stretched, her mind made up. She didn't trust Draco still, but she believed that he was indeed on her side. She brushed the dirt off of her robes and strode resolutley to the door. _Things are going to get interesting around here_.

XXXX

Harry was staring into the dregs of his tea when Hermione flew into the kitchen like a tropical storm. Her hair was flying all over the place, and it looked like she had ran from somewhere. He felt a stab of concern. _Had something happened?_

"Herm? What--?" He began.

"I found the library Harry! You won't believe it! It's enormous! You have to help me gather everybodye up, they need to see something..." She trailed off and looked at him expectantly.

"Umm...I'll help find everybody?" He assumed this was what she wanted, and when she smiled gratefully he knew he had guessed right. He stood and carried the cup over to the sink (whos water ran brown still). Most of the occupants of the house had passed through the kitchen by now, and all of the clean robes McGonagall had dropped off had disappeared.

Before long, they had gathered everybody up (including a miffed looking Ron, a curious Ginny, and a highly pissy and indifferent Draco) and were heading towards a narrow corridor.

"I think she's gone nuts" Ron muttered under his breath to Harry, who chuckled appreciativley.

"You've only just noticed?" Hermione threw a scathing look at the two of them over her shoulder, but continued on after rolling her eyes. Her frame came to a halt in the middle of the hall, and most of them had to stop quickly from running into the others. But Draco, who had of course not been paying attention (he was imagining that this was all a dream, that perhaps he was in the insane ward at St. Mungos and this was all a hallucination) had run into her.

Ginny lost her balance and began to tip over when his hand whipped out and grabbed her around her waist and pulled her up. **fix that sentence**.All Ginny could do was look at him, and she broke away when no apology came from his mouth.

The exchange hadn't escaped the attention of the other three, and its significance certainly wasn't lost on Harry. _What on Earth is going on? Has the whole world gone nutters?_ His anger smoldered and was further ignited by the scene, and his residual feelings that he wasn't ready to admit still lingered, but Hermione layed a gentle hand on his arm and begged him with her eyes not to lose his temper. Harry knew it was the last thing they needed right now, but did hereally have to look at her like that? Was it just him, or did his arm hold her for a moment too long? He could have sworn that when their eyes met, it was longer than their standard glare-and-go. It certainly wasn't a kind look that had exchanged between them, but it wasn't the cold hatred he was used to seeing come from the pair. Oh yes, something was up.

"Wait. Why are we standing in the middle of the corridor?" All heads turned to Ron, who had finally decided to pose the obvious question that was buzzing around everyone's heads.

"Because" was all that Hermione stated, as she pressed her back against the wall, it disappeared and revealed a chute.

"Oh. So _thats_ why we're standing in a hallway" Ron said in a voice that made Ginny chuckle. Hermione disappered down the slide, and the others shrugged and followed suit. It was a dusty ride down to the bottom, and by the end they were covered from head to foot in dust and cobwebs and who knows what else.

Harry dared a quick glance at Ginny, who was giggling as the others looked at themselves in disgust, Draco in particular.

"Whats wrong, Ferret boy, can't stand to get a little dirty?" Ron snorted in derision.

"Real original, Weasley". Draco rolled his eyes and went back to casting a cleaning spell on himself.

For the first time in the few minutes that they had been there, the group began to take in the surroundings. Ron's jaw dropped as he tilted his head back, looking up to the high vaulted ceilings, which were easily eighty feet high, and just as full with books. "Blimey, this place is big" was all he said.

"Inky?" Harry turned to face her in confusion, but his face took on an expression of comprehension as a small house elf bounded out from behind the bookshelves.

"Yes, missus Rowena?" _Rowena? What the hell?_ Ron, Draco and Ginny's faces all seemed to mirror his looks of utter confusion.

"Can you take us back to that portrait now?"

"Yes miss" Inky made to scurry off through the passage, but Draco decided now would be a particularly good time to interject his opinion.

"What portrait? What if I don't _feel_ like going to see it? I just want to get out of here and take a shower and eat some decent food and get away from you people! How do I get out of here, mudblood?" Draco spat. The hole that they had fell through had melted back into the wall, leaving a wall of stones where there was once a slide.

Ron and Harry began to steam at the ears, while Hermione just gave him an impatient glance and seemed to brush off his comment.

"I'm sorry that's how you feel Malfoy, but I do think you would like to see this." Harry and Ron shot her questioning glances, but she shot them looks that screamed at them to leave it--and that she would of course explain later.

Of course, Ginny had stayed out of the confrontation, not that anybody had much noticed. She decided now would be a good time to go explore--while the other four were caught up in their own little drama. Harry and Ron still had their wands locked on Draco's chest, and Hermione was holding both of them by the shoulders to keep them from tackling Draco.

Ginny turned on her heel and quickly crept away, and were anyone watching, they would have noticed that only Draco watched her leave.

XXXX

Ginny padded quietly through the rows of dusty tomes. She had put enough distance between herself and the others by now that she couldn't hear their bickering any longer, and she was alone. That was how she liked it.

After walking quite a long time, following the twisting paths that the walls around her created, she finally came into an open space, unknowingly arriving at the place where Hermione had been not long before. She gazed up at the still portrait, wondering at the fact that the figures in the portrait weren't moving. She moved forward and her fingers ghosted over Helga's face and she gasped as images filled her head. The longer her digit stayed in contact with the painted figures of her ancestor, the stronger the sensation became.

_"Helga, you know I have to do this". She was sitting in a chair, the room dark except where light from the fire danced in and out of her view. A man stood stiffly by the window, gazing out at the waning moon._

_"But Salazar, you can't! After everything we've been through, after all of the work we've done. After all the work **you've** done! Talk to me Salazar! At least explain yourself to me" She ended in a whisper as she twisted her fingers into a tight knot in her lap. _

_The man at the window turned and slowly walked toward her, and the closer he got, the tightening in her chest coiled taunter until it felt like a ball of lead laid buried in her bosom. He finally stepped into the firelight and Ginny gasped. Staring back at her were those mocking silver eyes; eyes that belonged to another slytherin she knew all too well. _

Ginny stepped back quickly and tripped over herself, emitting a loud 'Oomph' as she landed not very gracefully on her bottom. Instead of getting to her feet, she leaned back on the palms of her hands and gazed at the portrait with a renewed sense of awe. She examined the painting carefully, going over every stroke, detail, crease that formed the four founders. As she admired the frame that featured lions, snakes, badgers, and eagles, she noticed that there was a crevice between the frame and the wall that had not been there before.

The red haired girl picked herself up and placed her fingers on the gap. Clutching at the frame, she pried it from the wall, and it swung open to reveal another passage before her as the frame swung to the side on hidden hinges.

She cautiously stepped into the stone passage that smelled of time and magic. Sconces on the walls flared up as she walked past, and she picked her way carefully through spider webs and pieces of stone that had fallen off the walls over the centuries. She didn't know how long she followed the tunnel for, but when she looked behind her she could see that the portrait had closed automatically, sending a shiver of slight apprehension down her spine.

At long last, the tunnel opened up into a circular chamber. The glow of the torches spread across tumbled pillars, slopes of rubble, and dark doorways. _What is this place?_ Ginny had a very bad feeling about this. But as she looked to her left, she saw a table with four chairs situated around it. Each of the chairs seemed to be encroached with different colored gems. One chair was embedded with brilliant rubies and gold inlaid in patterns all over the back. The next one had snakes made out of what appeared to be emeralds , and they seemed to slither up and down the sides of it. Accross from the Gryffindor chair was a chair made almost entirely of sapphires and they emitted a sort of glow that made Ginny's skin break out in gooseflesh. And finally, Ginny laid her eyes on the fourth chair, and she walked slowly over to it. It was very simple, with delicate designs of gold in the arms, and three canary diamonds embedded into the crown of the chair.

She let her fingers trail over it revrently and voices once more entered her head. This time, it was no more than muffled conversation, but her hand jumped off the chair as if it had scalded her. The clawing touch of claustrophobia was beginning to take hold, and Ginny decided it was time to go. She took one last look around the room, and set off down the corridor. The others needed to see this.


End file.
